There were quite a few people milling about, on the sands at Lantessama,
and not just for the ones that the black dragoness Shivay had lain. The
black dragoness gazed around, spotting her rider, Heartshy, who still
enjoyed chatting with one of the other riders, Spell, even if his dragon
had lost their mating flight.
Shivay had become a little more bold in her ways, since their earliest
days at Lantessama so long ago. Living at Bald Mountain with many other
dragons and their varied riders - not all of them elves - had given her a
bit more confidence. After all, she was among the very first of that
tribe's dragons, and as such she needed to dole out wisdom and watch over
younger dragons as they arrived.
These, the youngest of them all, wobbled in their shells. There was a
hand-and-two, or as the humans might call it 'six' eggs on the mound of
warm sand under her dark wings. How strange that she had to learn to count
in two 'languages'? Both five and four fingered hands, human and elfin.
But there were more than just humans or elves at this clutch, waiting and
watching. One of the awaiting had a strange near-wolf smell to her, but
she wouldn't let too many people near enough to know why. There were
dragons, too, and that made Shivay wonder: dragons could be bonded to
other dragons, what about back home? Would that ever happen there at Bald
It was obvious, though, that not everyone gathered here before the eggs
would find their bond here. Shivay felt a little bad for those who would
have to walk away, or fly, or climb or dance... There were so many active
and energetic potential bonds for her children.
Heartshy would keep track of who went with whom, humming to herself and
plucking notes on her little harp. She'd seemed quite happy that there was
another musician among the group standing before these eggs, and the
elfess seemed somewhat amused that most of the candidates were dark-haired
and talented performers of some kind.
The black and green sire of this clutch watched silently, but proudly.
He'd had to bicker a bit with his rider, to remain on hand for this
hatching, yes yes they had places to be and things to do back at home, but
these were his children too! What kind of sire would he be, if he didn't
even stay to see what hatched from the eggs?
Those eggs were softly ivory white, but speckled in tiny splashes of faint
blue, pale green, and yellowish gold. No one could really say whether that
had anything to do with what might come from them - the fact that both
parents were quite dark meant it was easier to see them against Shivay's
body when she nestled close to them.
But now, they were moving in earnest, now they were ready to come out and
hatch. Every ounce of her instinct - matched by her mate's - said to sing
for these eggs, and sing they did. Softly at first and then joined by
numerous others with 'old world' blood, every hatching was special to
them. The eggs could be heard to respond, with eager cheeping, somewhat
Shivay raised her wings, and stood slowly, she wasn't sure exactly whether
to remain right there while the eggs hatched, or just what. She'd never
done this! She did however let her instincts rule when several onlookers
started to get a little too close - hissing a bit, then suddenly realizing
what she'd done, and interrupting herself with a shy peep and nod at the
pair of humans who had approached. They had been closer, they'd even
touched her eggs a couple times while they were waiting for the hatching.
But now... this was different. This was her babies' time to shine.
Several of the eggs bulged and one cracked softly, though only Shivay
could see its contents until the rest of the egg fell away. She nudged
with her wing tip, shaking loose some of the shell but inadvertently
covering part of the little hatchling in the soft sand around them.
Shortly, though, the dragonet stood higher and took a deep breath, sneezed
away the sand, and shook herself off firmly.
People nearby couldn't really tell... was this a dragon, or had a bucket
of paint spilled? More eggs cracked and the hatchlings bonded. While the
hatchlings were busy getting fed or stretching out, affirming their bonds,
the last two eggs were still bulging and cracking with the occasional
cheep or muted creel from within. It was a dark-blue winged hatchling that
emerged first, her hide a swirl of deep blue, paler and medium blues, and
bright yellow-gold here and there. A marvellous beryl and iolite, as one
of the local recordkeepers announced.
One of those standing nearest took the greatest note of that combination,
because the dragoness was badgering him trying to ask what he thought of
"I ... I think it's amazing, Jamilani! And it'll be fun to see all of
the patterns when you start to fly!" Ponte laughed.
"That won't be for a while, it'll have to
wait until you feed me, at least." She commented, and
waited for him to pick her up, rather than walking herself over to the
Jamilani, still a little princess, sat up from the ledge where she'd been
napping and looked down onto her sleeping bond who was on top of her tail.
He loved to sleep next to her but that meant she couldn't quite
Jamilani flicked her tail and thought. In the end she decided that this
was probably one of those band-aid situations where fast was better then
slow. So she stretched, supported him with her front legs and then jumped
to launch herself out of the window.
"Jamilani?" the muddled voice of her rider asked.
"Yes, Ponte?" she asked
"What are you doing out so early?"
"Why I'm rising." she told
him and called out for chasers, "I'll make
certain you wake up."
"That's not funny!" he called, but his swirly blue dragoness was
DragonStake - Darkling
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